My Hero
by Rokesmith
Summary: Two reflections on Rory Williams and why he's Amy Pond's hero. Set at the opening of 'A Good Man Goes to War'.
1. Alter Ego

**Alter Ego**

Rory follows the Doctor through the TARDIS corridors. His head is a whirl. The shock of watching Amy's Flesh duplicate disintegrate right in front of him is fading, leaving confusion about when and how it happened, fear about what's happened to her and helplessness that there's nothing he can do about it.

But what Rory Williams feels most at that moment is anger.

Somewhere out here, someone has his wife. And she really was pregnant. That means they have his child too. A child he's never seen and didn't even know existed until ten minutes ago. He's been angry before, but nothing like this; it's like he's gone through it and come out the other side into somewhere cold, calm and focussed. He thinks he should be frightened of it, but if he can use it to get Amy back then he doesn't care.

"Doctor, where are we going?"

The Doctor doesn't turn. "The TARDIS locked onto the source of the signal. It was being transmitted from the Delta Arm of the Lesser Spiral Cluster in the year –"

"No, Doctor. I mean, where are we going now?"

"Oh. To the wardrobe."

"The wardrobe?"

The Doctor opens the nearest door and there it is. Rory has never been sure of how big the TARDIS wardrobe is. He's almost certain it changes each time he visits. He's never had any trouble finding clothes either, no matter what he's been looking for. He had thought he was just imagination, but now he knows it's not. There's a plastic dummy standing in front of the first row of clothes that wasn't there before, and it's wearing a very familiar suit of armour.

"What is this, Doctor?"

The Doctor smiles. "It's for you, Rory. We have to dress for the occasion. I could have got you something else but the TARDIS obviously thinks this suits you best."

Rory looks at the armour. It isn't proper legionary armour, he realises. It's not steel, leather, or bronze, but something that feels like futuristic Kevlar. He's about to ask what it is when something the Doctor said comes back from him.

"What occasion?"

"Rory, do you know why this is happening?"

"Of course not!" He tries and fails to keep the anger out of his voice. "You haven't told me anything!"

"They took Amy to get to me," the Doctor replies, and there's more sadness in his voice than anything else. "It's a trap, but a special kind of trap. They didn't just replace her, they've had her projected into an avatar so no one would know she'd gone, not even her. They didn't want us to find out until it was too late. They fooled me."

"So... they must know a lot about you then?"

The Doctor looks at him, and for a moment, he isn't the friend who's been taxiing them around the universe for months, he isn't the figment of Amy's childhood imagination come to life, he's something else. But Rory doesn't feel like himself anymore either, and he holds the Doctor's gaze.

"No," the Doctor says quietly. "They don't know about me. If they did..." He hesitates and then smiles brightly. "And they don't know about you either, Rory Pond. They think you're just a nurse from a town in England no one's ever heard of with a closed post office and a duck pond with no ducks in it. But I know that isn't true. And so does Amy."

And Rory understands. The Doctor is asking for his help. But Rory Williams is just a boy from Leadworth living in the shadow of his wife's imaginary friend. He can't save Amy. Amy needs a man who once killed a Cyberman with a sword, who shot a Dalek in the eye, who stood for two thousand years without sleeping to guard her while she slept inside the Pandorica, willing to fight against all of history with only a sword and an Auton gun.

She needs the Last Centurion.

His hands move of their own accord. He strips off his clothes and pulls on the long-sleeved tunic and the burgundy trousers. He laces up the heavy boots. He finds the catches on the chest plate and fastens it tightly. He buckles the sword-belt around his waist. He sweeps the scarlet cloak over his shoulders.

The weight of the sword on his left side feels pleasantly familiar. He draws it and looks into the mirror. The Last Centurion looks back at him. Then he sheathes the sword and turns to the Doctor.

"How do I look?"

"Ready."

Something about the vibration of the TARDIS changes. The Doctor senses it too, and hurries back to the console room. Rory follows; running in the armour is easier than it should be. Somewhere behind the door in his mind, he can feel memories of forced marches, battle drills and fort building in the freezing Britanian winter.

As he enters, the Doctor has the screen on. Hundreds of ships are floating in space outside, all of them strangely familiar.

"That's where Amy is?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "No. The TARDIS couldn't narrow down the signal any further. We need help finding out where she is, and the Twelfth Cyberlegion is going to give it to us."

"Cybermen? Why would they help us?"

"There are only two things that are important to a Cyberman. One is logic. The other is survival. You're going to make the Cyberleader understand that not helping you is very, very illogical."

"How am I going to do that?"

"Easy. You're going to deliver a message from me. I'll make sure the Cyberleader understands it."

Rory looks at the fleet again. He thinks of Amy, out there somewhere with the baby. Waiting for him to come for her. He grips the handle of his sword tightly.

"Doctor... are you sure?"

The Doctor looks up from the console. He looks old now, impossibly old. When he smiles, it's a grandfather's comforting smile. For a moment, Rory imagines Amy there with them, smiling the smile she saves for Rory. The smile that tells him he's her husband, and her hero.

The Doctor nods in confirmation, as if he can see her too. "You're a good man, Rory. Even demons run when a good man goes to war."


	2. White Knight

**White Knight**

No one ever told Amy Pond fairytales. They didn't need to. She'd always made up her own, the ones about the raggedy man in the blue magic box. She'd told them to anyone who'd listen: her parents, her aunt, her friends and even the psychiatrists.

Now, as she sits in a cold, white room surrounded by people who want to use her as the cheese in a trap, she tells fairytales to her daughter. But the story she tells is different, because Amy is different. She's not little Amelia anymore, she's grown up, so she doesn't tell Melody imaginary stories about magical men who appear out of nowhere and vanish like they never existed. She wants her daughter to hear this story because it's true.

Once upon a time, there was a boy from a little English village called Leadworth. That's the first thing Melody has to know: you don't have to be born under an orange sky with two suns to be special; even ordinary boys from small villages can grow up to be heroes. This one did. He grew up to be smart, funny, brave, and the kindest man in the whole village, who'd do everything he could to look after the people he cared for even if he didn't know them.

She pauses for a moment, not sure how to tell the next part of the story. It's the most important part, because one day this boy met a girl. Everyone in the village thought this girl was strange; she believed in fairies because she said she'd met one. No one believed her, but the boy played games with her anyway so she could believe she'd run away with her Raggedy Doctor and could have adventures instead of being stuck in a boring village.

One day they stopped playing games together, and started doing normal things like revising for exams and rescuing their friend Mels when she got into trouble. Amy promises she'll tell that story later. And still, the boy never complained and did everything the girl asked, no matter how crazy it was. And the girl never missed her games while she was around him.

She has to stop the story there, and drop her head, hiding her face in her hair, refusing to let her captors know she's crying. She won't give them the satisfaction of thinking she's scared, even if she isn't.

Because she isn't scared. This is the part of the story she can't tell baby Melody. Perhaps, when she's older, Amy can admit that she was never certain why Rory put up with her. She'd always known he'd be there, with a certainty that nothing else could match, but she'd never been certain _why_. Sure, Amy Pond was beautiful – there was no such thing as Miss Leadworth but if there were, she was confident she could win it simply by showing up in the right skirt – but she was also obsessed with a childhood imaginary friend.

No real man could ever measure up to the Raggedy Doctor, and the strange thing about Rory was that he had never tried. He'd just gone on being normal, kind, patient Rory. There were times when she'd abused his patience shamelessly, mocking him, ignoring him, or just being generally selfish. When the penny had finally dropped, the first thing she'd wanted to do is apologise for all those times she'd taken advantage of his feelings for her without understanding what they really were. Of course, that didn't stop her doing all those things, but she did her best to apologise afterwards. It wasn't till he'd got down on one knee and offered her a ring that she really understood that he could actually handle everything she was – even the casual flirting with other guys – and he trusted her not to do anything that would really hurt him.

She quickly dried her tears, brushed her hair aside, and went back to telling Melody her story. How the boy had grown into a handsome man. He'd met a wise old wizard and become a brave knight, helping the wizard fight monsters, demons and everything that hid in the dark and made children cry. He'd even stood guard over the woman he loved for a hundred years after she was trapped by an evil spell. He'd saved her so they could finally be married and happy together, and he'd sworn nothing would keep them apart again. She tells her daughter to remember this, because a knight always keeps his word.

The doors swish open and her blood goes cold. She can sense the one-eyed woman in black before she even turns around. She does turn, and faces her; they won't get to see her afraid.

"Telling stories?"

"Yeah," Amy responds. "I want Melody to know who's coming to rescue us."

"Spare her," the woman smiles coldly. "The stories of the Oncoming Storm are just stories. No one here is afraid of them."

Amy blinks, then smiles a smile of her own. "That isn't who I was telling her about. The Doctor is amazing, and I've seen him do things you wouldn't believe, but he's got nothing on the man who's coming for us. He's fought vampires, Cybermen and Daleks with his bare hands. The universe can't kill him no matter how hard it tries. Even being erased from history didn't stop him. He spent two thousand years awake in a world with no stars just so he could make sure I was safe."

The woman's lips twisted again. "And who is this magical man?"

Amy holds up her left hand, and lets the woman see the gold ring she's never been more proud to wear. "His name is Rory Williams. He's my husband, and Melody's father."

For a second, the woman hesitates. Her single eye narrows. Then the door opens and one of the soldiers comes in and hurriedly salutes.

"What is it?"

"The Twelfth Cyberlegion," the soldier stutters. "It's... gone."

In the silence that follows, everyone in the room turns to look at Amy. She smiles. Rory is on his way.

"You still have time to start running," she says.


End file.
